Gon. Why might not you my Lord, receiue attendance From those that she cals Seruants, or from mine? Reg. Why not my Lord? If then they chanc'd to slacke ye, We could comptroll them; if you will come to me, (For now I spie a danger) I entreate you To bring but fiue and twentie, to no more Will I giue place or notice

Lear. I gaue you all

Reg. And in good time you gaue it

Lear. Made you my Guardians, my Depositaries, But kept a reseruation to be followed With such a number? What, must I come to you With fiue and twenty? Regan, said you so? Reg. And speak't againe my Lord, no more with me

Lea. Those wicked Creatures yet do look wel fauor'd When others are more wicked, not being the worst Stands in some ranke of praise, Ile go with thee, Thy fifty yet doth double fiue and twenty, And thou art twice her Loue

Gon. Heare me my Lord; What need you fiue and twenty? Ten? Or fiue? To follow in a house, where twice so many Haue a command to tend you? Reg. What need one? Lear. O reason not the need: our basest Beggers Are in the poorest thing superfluous. Allow not Nature, more then Nature needs: Mans life is cheape as Beastes. Thou art a Lady; If onely to go warme were gorgeous, Why Nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st, Which scarcely keepes thee warme, but for true need: You Heauens, giue me that patience, patience I need, You see me heere (you Gods) a poore old man, As full of griefe as age, wretched in both, If it be you that stirres these Daughters hearts Against their Father, foole me not so much, To beare it tamely: touch me with Noble anger, And let not womens weapons, water drops, Staine my mans cheekes. No you vnnaturall Hags, I will haue such reuenges on you both, That all the world shall- I will do such things, What they are yet, I know not, but they shalbe The terrors of the earth? you thinke Ile weepe, No, Ile not weepe, I haue full cause of weeping.

Storme and Tempest.

But this heart shal break into a hundred thousand flawes Or ere Ile weepe; O Foole, I shall go mad.


Corn. Let vs withdraw, 'twill be a Storme

Reg. This house is little, the old man and's people, Cannot be well bestow'd

Gon. 'Tis his owne blame hath put himselfe from rest, And must needs taste his folly

Reg. For his particular, Ile receiue him gladly, But not one follower

Gon. So am I purpos'd, Where is my Lord of Gloster? Enter Gloster.

Corn. Followed the old man forth, he is return'd

Glo. The King is in high rage

Corn. Whether is he going? Glo. He cals to Horse, but will I know not whether

Corn. 'Tis best to giue him way, he leads himselfe

Gon. My Lord, entreate him by no meanes to stay

Glo. Alacke the night comes on, and the high windes Do sorely ruffle, for many Miles about There's scarce a Bush

Reg. O Sir, to wilfull men, The iniuries that they themselues procure, Must be their Schoole-Masters: shut vp your doores, He is attended with a desperate traine, And what they may incense him too, being apt, To haue his eare abus'd, wisedome bids feare

Cor. Shut vp your doores my Lord, 'tis a wil'd night, My Regan counsels well: come out oth' storme.


William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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